


F*** You, Race

by HesTheKingOfSomewhere



Series: The Larkin Family Dramas [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Modern Era, Prank Wars, they're all adopted siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 13:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16119179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HesTheKingOfSomewhere/pseuds/HesTheKingOfSomewhere
Summary: Race started a prank war among the Larkin siblings, just a chill fic about those pranks. Based on a vine... like many of my fics





	F*** You, Race

**Author's Note:**

> Vine suggestion/prompt from galaxy-trees13 on tumblr!

The Larkin kids were engaged in the biggest prank war of all time. Race, of course was the one who started it, and after dunking all of Small’s clothing in pink paint, he deserved retaliation. Smalls, being the baby of the family, easily enlisted Jack to help her out. Small’s revenge came in the form of filling his sheets with applesauce, prompting Race to stuff his applesauce-covered bedding into Jack’s backpack. From there, all hell broke loose.

The next 3 weeks were a living hell. Everyday at least one person would be woken up by a prank or not woken up at all due to a missing alarm clock. Breakfast was equally prank filled, usually food replacements or general nonsense. The school day would usually have one or two pranks between Race and Jack, as Small’s went to a different school. After School was chaos. every minute was spent either planning, executing, or receiving pranks. Medda made them promise not to do anything during family dinner time, and for the most part they listened. After the first week, trends started to emerge.

Jack’s pranks tended to come in the form of messing with Race’s (and later, Smalls’s) things. Covering his room with pictures of Shrek, filling his school binders with bee movie scripts, moving everything in Race’s room to the left about 3 inches. Most of Jack’s pranks were so meme-y it just made them laugh. His pranks weren’t harmful by any means, just annoying as hell.

Race’s pranks weren’t exactly pranks, they were more just scaring the shit out of his siblings. Hiding behind doors, in closets, car, lockers, as his siblings saw it: Race could potentially be anywhere. Even when they could see him, it wasn’t out of the question for him to have something else be the scare-er. Fortunately they had an idea of when they were going to be scared, as there was almost always a phone recording the whole thing.

Smalls liked pranks that were waged over the internet. Her first solo-prank was hacking into Race’s instagram and deleting all of his pictures, only to replace them with fantastic pictures of herself. She had so much fun with that prank she made the mistake of doing the same to Jack’s instagram, causing her to lose her alliance with him and turning the house into an all-out war zone.

The first day after the Smalls broke her alliance with Jack signalled the peak of the war. Smalls woke up with her entire room relocated to the front lawn. How Jack- she had to assume it was Jack, it had his name all over it- had managed to move every item of furniture from her room on the second floor to the yard without waking her up was a mystery, but not unbelievable. Smalls made eye contact with a neighbour who was fetching their morning paper. She looked down and realised Jack had also put her in a pair of god-awful cheetah print pyjamas.

“JACK KELLY-LARKIN, YOU ARE DEAD TO ME!”

Breakfast seemed very normal to begin with. Neither Jack nor Race seemed awake enough to plan any pranks, making it a perfect time for Small’s rebuttal. It was a prank she had set up a while ago, and it was time to strike.

“Smalls, can you grab the OJ?” Race asked from his slump on the table.

“Uh, there’s only the stuff from concentrate.” Smalls pulled out a pitcher of orange liquid from the back of the fridge.

“OJ is OJ.” Race gestured for her to bring him the jug. Smalls pretended to pour herself a glass of chocolate milk and watched Race and Jack pour themselves glasses of… juice? With impeccable timing the boys took simultaneous sips and simultaneous spit-takes. Smalls burst out into laughter.

“JESUS CHRIST, SMALLS.” Jack shouted, wiping his mouth.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST PUT IN MY MOUTH?” Race yelled.

“An artful combination of water and 7 KD cheese packets.”

“BOI.”

School at least took Smalls out of the equation, leaving only one prankster for each of them to worry about. Race found his first surprise of the day almost immediately, he opened his locker, only for hundreds of ping pong balls to fall out, spilling everywhere. It took probably 5 minutes for the locker to empty completely, while Race just watched in slightly-annoyed awe. Moments later he heard Jack scream, as a similar pile of fake tarantulas fell out of his locker down the hallway. The scream was enough to lure a teacher out of their classroom.

“Mr. Higgins-Larkin, would you care to explain?” The teacher asked. Race grabbed his books from his locker and slammed the door.

“Ask Jack Kelly-Larkin.” Race directed before running off to class. A voice echoed down the hallway.

“FUCK YOU, RACE!”

Lunch brought Race the mild surprise of his lunch being filled with an unusual amount of celery and literally nothing else. He didn’t even hate celery that much. As for Jack, no pranks came, and every second that passed left him more and more ready for a prank to come the next. Race was halfway through his celery when he got the first phone call. HE didn’t recognise the number, so, as any kid does, didn’t answer. He got 20 more calls from a variety of numbers over lunch, but resolved not to answer any, figuring it was one of Jack’s pranks. The phone calls continued to trickle in over the remaining classes. By the end of class Race’s voicemail was full. Eventually the curiosity got the best of him, and gathered his friends around to listen to them after school. Race opened the first message.

“ggrgraragragrghrajkargragrrrrr” was the entirety of the message. Race looked at his pals and opened the next one.

“blahahablalallallalal” That one sounded more like a dying sheep. One by one the messages were opened, all of them containing the same weird noises. What they were supposed to mean, Race had no idea, but it was weird as hell, and seemed like something Smalls would set up.

Jack got home first, and Race found him lying on the couch watching TV. He eyed his brother suspiciously for a moment, before sneaking upstairs to his room. He flicked on the lights, half-expecting his room to be covered in post-its notes or something, instead his room was just uncomfortably warm. Race jumped up and pulled the fan cord, and the ceiling fan started up, spraying confetti everywhere. It took all of his self-control not to murder Jack right then and there, no he had to wait until Jack got comfortable. According to his calculations, Jack would start falling asleep in about 10 minutes, he could never stay awake for more than 40 minutes while watching TV. In those 10 minutes Race prepared for his winning prank. And also got a broom to clean up this damn mess.

Race snuck down the stairs, completely silent approaching the spot where Jack was napping on the couch. He reached toward the coffee table, grabbing the remote and slowly turned down the volume on the TV, making the room entirely silent. Race fired his gun into the air, waking Jack with a start, and causing him to fall off of the couch.

“THIS IS WHY YOUR MOM DOESN’T FUCKING LOVE YOU.” Jack screamed, Race just laughed.

The prank war came to an end when Smalls broke the penultimate rule; don’t prank at the dinner table. To her credit, she didn’t do the actual pranking at dinner, it just happened to come to fruition then. Before dinner, Small’s had stolen Race and Jack’s phones, and redirected their numbers to herself. The havoc wrecked in the 5 minutes Small’s controlled their text convos was undeniable. At least for Jack, who received 36 phone calls over the course of the meal, and left his ringer on. Apparently, Small’s had sent a bunch of cryptic texts to Jack’s boyfriend, the result of which was many calls from concerned friends. Race’s boyfriends response was “lol k?”; they understood each other very well. Either way, Medda declared the official end of the prank war. It was terrifying fun while it lasted, and while all three siblings maintain that they won, only Race and Small’s knew the truth: Jack lost miserably.


End file.
